


Because of You, My Love

by tibean2992



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha!John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Depression, Depression following a traumatic event, Fertility Issues, It gets happier I promise!, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Omega!Sherlock, Parentlock, Very Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 22:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2445719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tibean2992/pseuds/tibean2992
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock decide to start a family, and sometimes things go wrong</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is my first Sherlock fic, my first mpreg fic, and my first omegaverse fic. This came to me as I was laying down to go back to sleep and I just had to write it. Please excuse any errors as this is unedited. If you would like to beta for me, please message me at deadcatinternetcafe.tumblr.com

When John and Sherlock had first become sexually active, they had avoided conception like the plague. Birth control, condoms, the morning after pill, anything, so when after they had been spending Sherlock’s heats together for over a year, and had been bonded for 8 months, Sherlock wanting a baby had been a surprise to John. He agreed whole heartedly. They were going to have a baby.

The first heat without birth control had been a failure. They both decided it was from Sherlock having been on birth control since he was in Uni and eagerly awaited his next heat.

After the second, third, and fourth heats they figured something along the same lines. No need to worry. These things can take time. Bodies needed time to get themselves back to normal. 

When the fifth, sixth, and seventh heats with no pregnancy happened, they were worried. It had been almost a year of trying. Sherlock decided to book an appointment at the local fertility center to “see if there was anything we could be doing better.” No one wanted to use the word infertility. In the week before the appointment, in the dark of the night when the two men were cuddled up in bed, they opened their hearts and minds and talked about everything they thought they had done to prevent conception. Had Sherlock’s drug use in his twenties killed off his eggs? Had John’s time in the military working under constant stress made his sperm immobile? It was the first time they had spoken about any of these things. 

The appointment had been virtually useless, or so Sherlock thought. The doctor had run some tests, John gave a sperm sample, and Sherlock gave a blood and urine sample and an ultrasound. After a few days of lab time, the doctor told them they were both healthy and that sometimes these things just happened. He gave them a few new positions to try and suggested maybe Sherlock gain 10-15 pounds. Sometimes the baby doesn’t conceive unless the “mother” has a higher BMI.  
Sherlock left the appointment hopefully. John came home the next day from work to a clean kitchen with dinner on the stove. Sherlock gave an “Obviously” to john’s inquiry about his cooking abilities. John would say nothing to Sherlock standing in his “Kiss the Cook” apron. He just followed the instructions.  
It was now the normal to see Sherlock walking around with a snack in hand, or eating 3 square meals a day. He had even taken over all of the food preparation duties, finding he actually enjoyed it. All experiments had moved down to 221c months ago, in preparation for the baby that hadn’t come yet. 

In 3 months, Sherlock had managed to, very healthily John might add, put on the ten or so pounds the doctor had suggested, and by some miracle, it had worked. Sherlock was pregnant. 

(Week 4)

Sherlock had been exhausted, and not his normal “Bored!” exhausted, like proper “I need a nap at 4 in the afternoon” exhausted. The doctor had said it was perfectly normal. Baby was just making him or herself known. After a few more weeks, this should taper off slightly. Sherlock was ready for this. He had work to do. Scotland Yard was as incompetent as always.

(Week 7)

Sherlock woke up with a start, jumped up, and ran to the bathroom, to quickly empty his stomach into the toilet. John smiled, knowing it was ridiculous to smile at one’s mate vomiting, but it was like a real sign he was carrying their baby. He got up and went to comfort Sherlock, rubbing his back and handing him a glass of cold water. 

(Week 9)

Sherlock had been meticulous about his diet. Everything he consumed had a purpose, nothing slipping by his schedule he had pinned to the refrigerator. John walked into the apartment after work one day to a wonderfully smelling dinner being prepared to find Sherlock at the stove, slowly rubbing a hand over his very barely there tummy, humming something John must have recognized from his violin playing. 

(Week 10)

They were excited. They had the scheduled 10-week ultrasound. They would finally hear a heartbeat. After the usual checking in and checking vitals, Sherlock lay down on the table, lifted his shirt, and the tech squirted jelly on his stomach. She smiled. “This might take a minute, Mr. Holmes.” She glided the probe along his belly searching for the heartbeat. She smiled after a minute. “I’ll be right back.” Sherlock looked over at John. He had stilled and paled. He grabbed Sherlock’s hand. The doctor came in a moment later and smiled at them. ‘Okay, Mr. Holmes. It looks like we might need to do the internal ultrasound sooner than planned. Here is a robe, please go empty your bladder and change.” The doctor left the room and Sherlock did as instructed, a cold shiver running down his spine as he could just tell something was wrong. He lay back down on the table and put his feet in the stirrups. The doctor knocked and came in. “Okay. Let’s see what’s going on, eh?” The doctor moved the screen towards him, so John and Sherlock couldn’t see it. He gently inserted the probe and searched around for a minute before removing it. He handed Sherlock a towel to clean up and turned the lights back on. Sherlock sat up. 

The doctor addressed them. “I’m sorry, but it looks like the baby has stopped growing…” Sherlock tuned out and tried not to throw up. He lost the baby. Oh my god. He lost the baby.


	2. An Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Another chapter! This one gets sad and angsty. Just letting you know.

(Week 10)

There was nothing to be done. Sherlock lost the baby. The next few days were a storm of tears, IV fluids, discussions of DNCs, and minor outpatient surgery. They named the baby Faith. 

(Week 1 After)

Sherlock had barely managed to get out of bed that week. Mrs. Hudson had been briefed about what had happened and cried along with John on her sofa, Sherlock upstairs needing his bed and some time alone. The doctor made a home visit checking everything was okay, but how could it be? 

Sherlock felt like a failure. He had failed to either give this being what it needed to sustain life or had somehow failed with its transport. He didn’t want to get out of bed. He didn’t want to eat. He only drank water and a nutritional drink because John threatened him with an IV that he knew he would follow up on. 

Was it something he did? Was the non-existent God punishing him for something he said? No, because then he/she/they would be punishing John and John was perfect. Did this happen because he had finally wanted something good in his life? He wasn’t a good person and he did not deserve a perfect, wonderful being that loved him unconditionally. He didn’t deserve that love. 

(Week 3 After)

Sherlock still was facing the effects of the miscarriage. He still shot up in the middle of the night with a hand protectively over his belly to only remember what happened wasn’t a bad dream and cried. 

Getting up in the morning was doable now, but only with the help of cigarettes and caffeine. John had addressed it with him and a short, low bark of “Back. Off.” Made him turn away and leave Sherlock alone. He heard John mention “depression” to Mrs. Hudson when they thought he was asleep, and maybe they were right, but he felt as though he had the right to be depressed. He wasn't the healthiest when it came to his emotions on a normal day, and he just lost…

He couldn't say it. It hurt too much.

John and Sherlock went to the clinic later that week and Sherlock was given the okay to resume work. He also Okayed sex again, and Sherlock almost laughed. Like he felt like having sex. 

(Week 10 After)

Sherlock knew he was due for another heat any day now. It had been months since they had had any type of sex, excluding a quick mutual handjob after a case that left Sherlock a crying puddle on their bed, sobbing about the baby. 

He and John had decided to use short-term birth control for the meantime. Neither of them mentioned why. 

(Month 5 After)

Things had been so quiet around the flat. Sherlock’s depression had lifted mostly, although he still had bad days. After the first heat, they had decided to stop taking birth control and just see what happens. Nothing happens for a while, and they decide to be okay with that. 

Sherlock picks up his violin. He plays what he titled “A song of Faith” with as much heart as can. He finally starts to believe things could be okay again.

(Month 8 After)

They receive some very good news from the doctor’s office. They decide to be cautiously optimistic this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter is on its way!


	3. A new Beginning, The First Trimester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first trimester of the second pregnancy

(Week 5, September 7-13)

They had just found out. It was almost like they were moving through a china shop, everyone afraid to make any sudden movements. Sherlock took his prenatal vitamins every day, watched what he was eating, stopped the nicotine patches, which had replaced the cigarettes when they started trying again, immediately, and felt like if he was just a little bit more careful, than everything would be okay this time. 

(Week 6, September 14-20)

It was a constant struggle anymore for Sherlock to keep anything in his stomach. John came home one day to find Sherlock sitting on the kitchen floor with what seems like every bowl or plate they owned surrounding him. Each plate was filled with something different, from biscuits to boxes of takeout. 

“Uhmm, Sherlock? What are you doing?” John asked clearly concerned.

“Oh! I’m testing to see which foods are acceptable to the embryo and which ones they are revolting against. So far, they like yoghurt, apple sauce, chocolate biscuits, saltine crackers, dried apples, jacket potatoes, and dry toast.” He said, showing John the notepad he had written a list on, a good portion of the items crossed off with a thick red marker. 

“I guess I’ll stop by Tesco’s later and stock back up, yeah?” John said with a smile, never having believed that over a year or so ago he would have been able to get Sherlock to willingly eat this much.

“Thank you.” Sherlock said with a smile, pulling John down for a kiss.

(Week 7, September 21-27)

“Who decided to let that cow of a woman anywhere near this crime scene? I swear to god she and Anderson could bash their skulls together and have the same amount of brain cells as a Chia Pet!”

“Babe, calm down. We can leave any time. They have what they need.” John tugged a possessive arm around Sherlock, trying to steer him away from the crime scene. It had been a very calm, non-toxic/bio hazardous crime scene, one that they assumed the doctor would be okay with. Lestrade was one of the very few people that they had told already. They were trying to keep it as secretive as possible, just in case. He now knew to keep them clear of the really dangerous cases.

It was a struggle for Sherlock. He knew that he needed to be very cautious about what he was around, with what he breathed in, the baby breathed in, what he ate, the baby ate, what drugs were in his system, were in the baby’s system. It was really hard at first. The nicotine cravings about killed him the first few days, but thinking back on the last pregnancy, he knew he couldn’t take any risks. This baby would have the safest, most nourishing, healthiest, most loving incubation time he could provide. 

John reached a hand out. “You ready to go home, Love?” 

Sherlock looked over with a smile. He reached out his hand to meet John’s, knowing he would never get used to the feeling that spread through his chest when he looked over and felt as loved as he did by John. 

(Week 8, September 28-October 4)

Sherlock looked in the full-length mirror in their bedroom. He knew that the little bump on his belly was just water retention, but he couldn’t help but smile at it. It was almost like a sign that the little alien in his abdomen was making his presence known to the world. Things had seemed to be going well. His morning sickness was still rearing its ugly head what seemed like all day, John had said he had been really moody, which he adamantly denied, and he had been tired, but strangely excited and energized by the knowledge that he had a huge secret very few people knew. Everyone he passed on the street had no idea he was carrying the most important person in the whole world, the baby that would end world hunger, or cure cancer, or whatever those things that normal people cared about were. 

(Week 9, October 5-11)

Sherlock had started to delve deep into the world of Child Development, specifically fetal development. The flat was now littered with books, journals, magazines (some of which made John laugh with titles like Mommy 2 Bee and MotherWatch), and printed online articles and charts. John consistently knew what the baby should look like, thanks to an ever rotating photo stuck to the bedroom mirror, along with a chart underneath of symptoms he might be feeling and statistics on the now fetus. John had expected nothing less. He knew when Sherlock was sitting in a cab looking at his phone, he was most likely reading an article about whether the Bradley Method of childbirth was as beneficial as some said or which nipple creams proved the most reliable. 

He knew this was Sherlock’s way of protecting the baby. Knowledge was power. He was eating better, sleeping better, and his experiments were completely harmless. They had even given up sex for a few weeks to prevent bleeding while implantation was taking place, which was just about murder now that that had started up again. Sherlock was literally doing anything he can to provide this child with the best start they could have. John could not have been prouder.

(Week 10, October 12-18)

It was starting to get chilly. Sherlock wrapped his coat around him, knowing that would soon be coming to an end. His belly was very slowly expanding. They were walking into the fertility clinic for their 10-week ultrasound appointment. He was very nervous. This was the point in which the first pregnancy had ended. He so greatly dreaded thinking about this. Sherlock had done his research. He knew that the pregnancy has most likely ended for a good reason. The baby was missing chromosomes, they had missing body parts, or other reasons like that, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. That baby had meant as much to them as this one does. It was like an entire future for them had been ripped out of their hands and even though a new one was slowly weaving a new story, piece by piece, there was still this jagged seam that nothing could be sewn to.

John opened the door of the clinic for them, Sherlock rolling his eyes. John still held some of the traditional views for how things should go, holding open doors for Sherlock, pulling out chairs, opening cab doors, and while sometimes it was nice, he was slowly staring to feel like John was going to see him as unable. It was subconscious on John’s part, and while Sherlock knew that, it was still infuriating. Now was not the time for thoughts like this.

They checked in at the desk, and were shortly called back. After the initial exam, weight, blood pressure, blood drawn, Sherlock was lead to an ultrasound room where he took his shirt off. He really wished they would hurry, because what they don’t tell you before pregnancy is about the whole “Drink massive amounts of water and hold it for a long time while we press on your bladder” thing. The overly friendly tech came in and began the external part of the ultrasound. 

For a moment Sherlock stopped breathing. He grabbed John’s hand as a few totally manly tears rolled down his cheeks. A quick thump spread through the room. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. It was the sound of life. Sherlock knew everything was going to be okay. 

After Sherlock was allowed to urinate and change into a robe, the tech began the internal part of the ultrasound, which was always unpleasant. He pushed on through, got redressed, got prints of the pictures, and went to the doctor’s office. 

Everything was fine for now. The baby was developing correctly, was a proper size and Sherlock was taking good care of himself. Sherlock asked a million questions, was given a bounty of pamphlets, and they went their merry way. 

(Week 11, October 19-25)

Sherlock looked like there was a little something there. It didn’t look like a real pregnant belly yet, but it was almost there. It mostly looked like he had eaten a huge meal. He loved watching his belly grow, because it meant that their little one was growing to. He had taken to taking photos of his abdomen, for science of course. “These are not for sentiment’s sake, John. It is all science,” when John had found him doing it. 

Sherlock had slowly started increasing the amount he was eating, and had started taking evening strolls with John, his regular malaise not seeming to affect him as it had previously. He assumed it was because pregnancy was a lot of things, but boring was not one of them. 

Sherlock asked later that night as they were laying on the sofa, Sherlock’s head on John’s lap, both of them reading some sort of journal, John’s medical, Sherlock’s developmental, “What do you think for names? I know it is early, but I need to eliminate the ridiculous names you have undoubtedly stared thinking about.” he said with none of the usual malice. John smiled because he knew this meant Sherlock had been thinking about it also. 

“Well, as much as I hate my middle name, I think it would be a good middle name if it is a boy. A man should have a strong middle name. My mother always said that. We could name him Scott Hamish. Your father would love that. And for a girl, I honestly haven’t given it much thought.” Sherlock grimaced at the suggestion. He hated this suggestion. The Scott thing, he could contest to, but only as a middle name, and he refused for this child to have a four word name. It was awful growing up. 

“I was thinking Fritz, Dimitri, Linus, or Antoine.” Sherlock said, looking up at John for his reaction.

‘Sherlock, those names are awful. Wait, are you just listing the names of famous chemists?” 

Sherlock sniffed. “Maybe?”

John smiled. “Sherlock, Come up with names you like, not just ones that are famous for some reason or another. We will be calling this child this name, or some variation of it, for the rest of our lives. We need to like it. No, not just like it, love it.”

Sherlock smiled. He hadn’t really thought about the fact that this person that was growing inside him was going to be a real adult person someday with thoughts, plans, a mortgage probably, and other boring adult things like that.

“Let me get back to you on that. We both need to think of girls names too. I know it is early, but it is crucial we come up with the correct ones. This child’s well-being and social life depends on it.”

John smiled and went back to reading while running is fingers through Sherlock’s curls.

(Week 12, October 26-November 1)

Sherlock was starting to look pregnant. His old shirts were just barely stretching over his belly, which was now round and John dared to say adorable. They took a trip into town and ordered Sherlock’s winter wardrobe, on Mycroft of course, adjusting for the growing bump. Sherlock decided that now was the time to part with his beloved coat, exchanging it for a new, loser, almost cape style jacket that would be much more sufficient as his belly grew. 

It had been a while since anyone at Scotland Yard had seen the two of them. They had a small case that could most likely be solved at the station. Sherlock was nervous, because walking in with A) a different coat and B) a belly was going to draw some attention to the state of his uterus, well, its occupancy level. 

They had discussed announcing it, and decided that just showing up was the best thing. It was far enough along that it was most likely safe to announce the pregnancy, but Sherlock was still nervous. He didn’t know what everyone was going to think. He was still an omega, and it had taken years for him to push his way through the prejudices that were bestowed upon him simply because of his biology. Sally Donovan was the worst. He was not prepared to deal with her, but he pushed on anyways. He hadn’t had a case in weeks. 

They walked through the doors of Scotland Yard hand in hand. Sherlock needed this reassurance. “You are going to be fine, Love. I will always protect you, no matter what.” John said. It was the most calming thing he had heard in a while. Sherlock smiled at him as the elevator stopped on the floor they needed. “Ready to make them jealous?” John said with his darker smile. Sherlock smiled. “Let’s do this.”

They walked through the doors and started over to Lestrade’s office. Sally saw them and her eyes got huge. She was about to say something and John almost growled “Back off.” She did. She was a beta and had learned by now that that meant business. Sherlock assumed that was one of the reasons she disliked him so much. She was jealous that men (and women) automatically were turned on by Sherlock and he just kind of got what he wanted a lot of the time, at least as far as information at crime scenes went. And it probably had to do with how rude he was to her, but whatever.

They got the rest of the way to Lestrade’s office without incident, but with a lot of whispers. Lestrade congratulated them on the announcement, even though he already knew. He and John chatted for a while before Sherlock interrupted with a harsh “We are here for business. You two can chat elsewhere. I have more important things to do,” which John scoffed at. They finished the case within an hour. “Waste of time.” Sherlock grumbled as he twirled his coat on, losing none of the flair of his Belstaff. John smiled. This was going to be a long rest of the pregnancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is going to be the last chapter of the day, but it might not be.


	4. The Middle, The Second Trimester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second trimester

(Week 13, November 2-8)

The whole name thing was starting to get to both of them. They wanted names, even just as a place holder for the real name. Sherlock hat been respectfully calling it embryo and then Fetus, and John had taken to calling it Peanut or Bean. 

This led to many nights with John and Sherlock in bed, Sherlock sleeping and John up rubbing Sherlock’s belly, talking to the baby, even though he knew the baby couldn’t hear yet. Sherlock looked down and smiled, John apologized. “It’s fine. It’s all fine” 

(Week 14, November 9-15)

John came home from work to find Sherlock lounging on the couch in a pair of shorts, a too snug tank top, and his whole body covered in a grainy brown paste, eating a carton of blackberries and looking through a lab supply catalogue. John had no idea where he even got a carton of blackberries. 

“Hello, Highness,” John said as he came over and kissed his forehead. “What is all over you?”

“It’s a sugar scrub. My skin has been feeling super dry lately.” He said looking up at John purposely. 

“What’s in it? It isn’t toxic or anything, is it?”

Sherlock looked at him like he had lost half his brain cells. “Of course not. It’s sugar, coconut oil, and cocoa powder. Like I would do anything that stupid. I do need to go rinse it off in a minute though.” 

John got a mischievous look on his face. “So you wouldn’t mind if I licked it off your face?”

Sherlock grinned at him and set his catalogue down. A while later both of them ended up showering to get the sugar out of their crevasses. 

(Week 15, November 16-22)

John and Sherlock were sat down over Mediterranean food. 

“Okay. The sex screen is next week. We need to talk names. Do you have your lists?” John and Sherlock had both made up a list of at least 5 names for each sex and they were going to combine them.

John’s list for boys consisted of:  
Derrick  
Willem  
Liam  
Louis  
Andrew  
John’s List for girls consisted of:  
Charlotte  
Morgan  
Carolyn  
Gretchen  
Sagen  
Sherlock’s List for boys consisted of:  
Mayer  
Miles  
Phineas  
Stellan  
Ethan  
Sherlock’s list for girls consisted of:  
Adelaide  
Elspeth  
Janelle  
Raina  
Aurora  
Adeira

The next 45 minutes or so consisted of light-hearted arguing about which names went together best. Sherlock spent a good portion of it pointing out John had two variations of his first name and he thought it was redundant.  
The names they came up with were:  
Boys-  
Derrick Andrew  
Ethan Phineas  
Miles Liam  
Stellan Mayer  
Louis Phineas  
Willem Mayer  
Girls-  
Adelaide Aurora  
Carolyn Adeira  
Charlotte Raina  
Sagen Elspeth  
Morgan Janelle  
Gretchen Aurora

Any name would be ended with Holmes-Watson.

 

(Week 16, November 23-29)

Sherlock woke up on the morning of the scan to a very pleasant John, who kissed him awake. Sherlock wrapped his hand around the back of John’s neck to deepen the kiss. Just as he was about to flip over and straddle John’s hips, he felt a little something move purposely in his abdomen. He sat up and held his hands to his bump.  
“John! John!”  
“What? Can’t it wait? I mean…”  
“I felt the baby move. It was right here,” he said taking John’s hand and placing it over his belly.  
John smiled. “I’m not going to be able to feel anything yet. I guess he or she noticed you were getting excited.” he said wiggling his eyebrows. Sherlock rolled his eyes and stretched back over the bed.  
“Get over here.”  
“Well if you’re asking…”  
“Shut up and kiss me.”

Later that day, they were back at the doctor’s office. The signed in for what seemed like the millionth time, had the same nurse (Becky, 27, single, 4 cats, a slight addiction to internet poker) take his vitals, and laid down on the same exam table, lifting his shirt over his bump. The tech squirted the gel over his belly, and they were off. 

It was a girl. They are going to have a baby girl. 

Sherlock really hadn’t cared one way or another, but he secretly wanted a girl. He wasn’t sure there even was a reason why. John looked excited, but Sherlock could tell he had secretly hoped the other way. Neither showed a shred of disappointment in their faces though. John leaned over and gave Sherlock a big kiss.

After getting prints, visiting the doctor, and all of that nonsense they were out. They decided to walk at least part of the way home, their doctor’s office being in a posher part of town, they didn’t have to walk very far to come across some shops, one being a baby shop. It was the first time they had allowed themselves to do any real thinking about shopping and preparing for the baby. The baby, well, She had more of a sense of being a person now. 

They walked in, were greeted by a clerk and looked around. It was one of those ridiculously posh places Sherlock loved to shop at, but the baby version which was filled with soft colors and way too many sequins. Sherlock wandered around picking up something here and there when John saw it. It was perfect. It was a tiny, pink, slightly poufy dress with lace trim. He had no idea why he was drawn to it so much, but he needed to buy it. He cringed at the price tag, but decided if they splurged on nothing else as far as clothes go for this little one, it should be fine. That was his thought until twenty minutes later Sherlock walks over with an armful of tiny hangers. John sighed. 

(Week 17, November 30-December 6)

Sherlock was obsessed with tracking the baby’s growth. He knew by now the baby was about 140 grams, she was around 12 centimeters, and she was looking more and more human by the day. Sherlock knew he should be experiencing Round Ligament Pain, which holy hell he was, but what he didn’t know was what this little person inside of him was going to become. Was she going to be kind and loyal like her father or excruciatingly intelligent and clever like him? Was she going to inherit John’s sense of humor? Was she going to be kind and well liked? Was what she is going to do someday matter to many people, or just a few? This was one of the scariest parts of pregnancy. It creates a person who is free to choose their own identity and path. Someone should do something about that. 

(Week 18, December 7-13)

Pregnancy was starting to be not very much fun. First it was the stairs. Sherlock was about halfway up with a few shopping bags when he realized he felt like he briefly had the wind knocked out of him. “Adelaide, we have over 20 weeks of this nonsense left. It would be beneficial for both of us if you weren’t kicking upwards when I am trying to climb stairs. I know you don’t really have much control of it, but please do your best.”

Then it was sleeping. First, John and Sherlock had to switch sides of the bed, which was awful, but they both knew sleeping on your left side was best for circulation. Then, when Sherlock was trying to sleep, Adelaide decided to say “Wake up and entertain me, Dad! I live in a fish tank and would like to get some sort of stimulus.” Sherlock found that the best solution to this was to walk around and play the violin for a little while until the baby fell asleep. Then Sherlock could get some sleep. That part he didn’t really mind. 

The other awful thing was the body changes. Sherlock had to pee more, which was annoying, his nipples were really sensitive, and worst of all were the multiple random dark patches. Sherlock would admit to being vain. He knew he was attractive, and there was nothing wrong with that. He was especially proud of his complexion. He took very good care of his skin, and expected it to take good care of him back. But, the random dark skin patches needed to stop. 

Oh. And the heartburn. God, the heartburn. 

(Week 19, December 14-20)

“Your Mum called and she expects us to be there for Christmas dinner. She wants to see you before you are too pregnant to travel. I told her we would be there. No arguments.” Sherlock sighed. He loved his parents, and seeing his mum to talk about stuff would be nice, but traveling sounded awful. He gave in “Fine, but we are going to have to go Christmas shopping. Are you off today?” John said he was and an hour or so later they were out the door, bundled up, and ready to go.

They got into a cab. “Sherlock, do we need to buy the baby that many presents? I mean, she isn’t here yet. I want to get her a few presents, but does she need that many?”

Sherlock thought about it. “Honestly, for now we are essentially buying gifts for ourselves and it makes more sense to buy things while they are on sale and just skip wrapping them. I know my mother will go overboard with the gifts, Molly too, and I can’t imagine Mycroft being anything but extravagant. So no, we should buy her a few “practical” things and leave the nonsense to other people.” They agreed on this.

Well, in practice it was much harder. They went to the baby store to pick up a few practical pieces for the nursery and left with too many bags of ridiculous cute stuff, and a few pieces of furniture to be delivered. “I can’t imagine this child will even go through all of the clothes she has even now.” John laughed because he knew how Sherlock was when he was excited about something. This baby was going to be the best dressed child in all of London. He knew Sherlock had even started buying stuff online, including a baby grow with the periodic table and leggings with her name printed on them. This child was already more stylish than John. 

After a few more hours of actual gift shopping, they stopped and got tea and biscuits from a little café. It had been a surprisingly nice day. 

(Week 20, December 21-27)

John and Sherlock were expected to stay for at least 4 nights, which Sherlock pouted about, but little did he know John had negotiated it down from 7. They were leaving the 23rd and getting back the 27th, having their little Holiday Do on the 21st. Molly, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson and a few other of their acquaintances came over, had a few drinks and just generally enjoyed the company. 

Molly had predictably went crazy with the gifts and now “Addie” as she called her, making Sherlock roll his eyes, had enough tiny, knitted socks, hats, and booties to last her until University. Sherlock kissed her head and said thank you, allowing her to feel when Adelaide kicked. She almost cried.

The trip up north hadn’t been as awful as predicted. The snow behaved itself and they were able to stop and take a rest every hour or so. They arrived to the house around 3 and Sherlock was immediately swamped by his mother, getting the biggest hug he had received in a while. They all greeted each other and headed inside, Sherlock being shepherded out of the cold “So the baby doesn’t freeze, Love.” 

They went inside and Sherlock showed his mum all of the sonogram photos, along with a few of the belly pictures he had taken. It was nice to talk to someone who had actually gone through this that he was reasonably close to. 

The trip was actually pleasant until Mycroft showed up and ruined the good mood. He snipped about being off duty and was just a general arse. Sherlock did appreciate that his mother was taking his side more on arguments, and when Mycroft noticed the same and said, “Just because someone doesn’t know how to keep their legs closed doesn’t mean they have all of the experience in the world, does it?” And Sherlock snapped back, “At least I have someone to assist in that department. What happened to your last “Assistant?” He move to Paraguay too? Strange how that keeps happening.” Pointedly hitting a sore spot and as soon as Mycroft was about to raise a hand to slap Sherlock across the face, which he deserved and he knew it, John stepped in and said “I’m thinking that might be a bad idea. Do not test me, Holmes.” 

Sherlock thought about taking him then and there but decided in his parents’ sitting room was slightly indecent. 

The rest of Christmas was nice. Mycroft left Christmas evening to head back to work, so it left the four of them to spend time together, which was nice. Sherlock was going stir crazy by the last night though. There is only so much to do and he had done it all. They left the next morning with Sherlock promising to call his mother more frequently, which he realized he just might. 

(Week 21, December 28-January 3)  
Sherlock sat snuggled into his chair with his hands on his belly, just talking nonsense to her. “Adelaide, which I plan to call you by your full name by the way, we are over halfway done with this whole thing now. The New Year is approaching, and honestly I am terrified thinking about you getting here. We still have a few months, but every time I look at the calendar, you are getting closer to being here, and it scares the crap out of me. There are so many things I am going to do wrong. I want you to know that now. I will never be the perfect parent to you, but one thing you will always know is how much I love you. You are now and forever will be the most important thing in my life. More important than breathing, which is only boring until you do it, when it will become the second most beautiful sound in the world, second only to when I heard your heartbeat for the first time. You are already more important than the work. I have only done four cases while you have been in my life. I can’t risk losing you and in the future it will be a struggle because there will be things I miss. I am sorry for that, but I will always do my best to make you feel like the most important person in the world. You are the most important person in the world. Never forget that, but also never let it get to your head. You need to be humble and well-rounded like your father. There is no one better qualified to teach those things. He is the strongest, most caring, most loving man I have ever met, and he loves you as much as I do. I would say more but that is physically impossible. Your father will probably be the one you cry to about breakups, and call when you are out on your own, but I want you to know that I will do my best to be as close to that as possible. I love you Adelaide Aurora Holmes-Watson, and as many times as I have said it already, be ready for millions more.”  
(Week 22, January 4-10)  
Sherlock adamantly refused to have a birthday party. “I’m a grown man, John. I don’t need numerous people congratulating me on being closer to the grave.” John chuckled and agreed. They simply went out for a nice dinner, took a walk in the park, had gratuitous amounts of filthy sex, and right before midnight, John got out of bed, went to the kitchen, and brought in a tiny cake with a single lit candle in it. “Happy Birthday, Sherlock. I have a feeling this year is going to be one of your best. Now blow out your candle and make a wish.” Sherlock knew what he was going to wish for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Im going to try to get something up this week but no promises. I have 2 midterms, an observation, and an essay due this week, so yeah. Im a little busy. 
> 
> Follow me at Deadcatinternetcafe.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> This is partially inspired by a miscarriage that happened in my family, and while it isn't exactly the same, please be respectful about it. I'm sure some details are wrong, but please excuse them or be constructive. I am fairly new to this.


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